Time Immemorial
by Fractured Peace
Summary: The nine who most loved life, the nine who most longed for destruction, and the two who defeated Death in his plans. They have been brought together to fight until death knows his answer and not even the streams of time will stand in their way. Crossover to FFs 6, 7, 8, 9, and 10
1. Prologue: A Place Between Time

I'm not usually a fan of pre-chapter comments, but I feel like this needs a bit of an introduction...

First, this is a project written for fun between me and a friend of mine. We were lamenting over the wasted crossover potential of Dissidia and came up with our own combined timelines for our favorite games. This is something we're doing on the side and even though we have the first six chapters written already, they might come out a bit sporadically and I'm not taking it as seriously as I am "Awakening."

Second, we have no idea where this is going and it's almost definitely not going to finish, but I do have a few good chapters already put together and hopefully it'll be worth that at least.

Third, five points for anyone who can correctly identify the pov of this first chapter. Ten points for anyone who can correctly identify the timeline we put together based on the games I listed. Twenty points and a cookie for anyone who can tell me what characters we'll be using.

* * *

_**Time Immemorial**_

**Prologue: A Place Between Time**

* * *

I have existed since the birth of time and will continue until its end. I am the one behind death, the Destroyer, the truth. Without me there is Nothing, but I exist only to return everything to Nothing again. Such is the way of life. In every living being there is a fear of death, of the Nothing, and yet, everything must live to die. I had waited since the beginning of time for that ultimate truth. I was given my proof and I readied for the end. My purpose. That which I had come to accomplish.

But then I was given doubt.

For with every soul that longs for the nothing – that so fears death that it embraces the end of fear – there is a counter-part. There is one who is so determined for life's preservation that it might sacrifice its own life for the good of others. There is one who does not fear death but embraces the cycle of all things and would fight forces which have existed since the beginning of time to save that fleeting, inconsequential moment of life. This is what gave me pause. This balance. This contradiction.

I laid the issue to rest and gave it time for thought.

With all things realized, I could not fulfill my purpose. I could not bring all to Nothing while some life, even in deep subconscious, did not desire it. As I weighed the possibilities, I came to two options best suited for my ultimate purpose. With the Crystal damaged, I could let it lie and allow its power to slowly, over many eons, fade to death. I could also intervene. So long as the balance of preservation and destruction remained equal, both sides held such equal merit that I could not decide. So long did I spend pondering my choices that they, eventually, came to fruition. Both at once did they split from the source in the river of time, and I was left to observe from the middle.

In one, I did nothing, and the world did slowly die. The eidolons, once great sources of magical power, reverted to their stones, and the cycles condensed into a metaphysical stream of souls and life from which all magic spawned. The cycle further diminished and then there was nothing. Left in the wastelands of life, the world's population devised high technology to exist without magic and to exploit it from the souls of their wildlife. I came to my decision. I, through another's power, attempted to bring the flow of time to a stop and revert all back to the Nothing. And I was confronted. Life had fought me once again.

In the other, I collected the power of the crystal and preserved it in my own energy. All of life and magic now flowed through me, and because I was no suitable replacement, I divided it into easier managed thirds. These three gained sentience and came into conflict and all magic and life was changed forever. But even they, in their struggles, came to the balance that had spawned their existence. They sacrificed their sentience to restore this balance and brought peace until their destruction. Magic permeated the planet's core and, after some time in dormancy, lived there without restriction. The planet recovered from its scars and flourished. Perhaps, as I later saw, it had flourished too much. Greater life had spawned greater death and the balance came into jeopardy. I gathered some of this free-roaming magic, enveloped it in my power, and it too gained sentience. It sought the restoration of balance, and kept the world in a neutral cycle. For every great time of life there then came a time of death. This remained until the powers of life once again defeated me.

I could not understand it.

Confronted by my two failed paths, I realized that I could not compromise the two sides of life and death. One must win out in the human spirit and I must defend the victor. Over the course of my two times, I had seen many champions of preservation and many worshippers of nihilism. I looked between them and came to the five crisis points of this world, the five points where the conflict came to greatest climax and the winner remained debated. I gathered their forces together: the nine who most loved life, the nine who most longed for destruction, and the two who had defied me in the conclusions of their time. I brought them back to the origin – the time of original crisis – and allowed them their free will. With their opposite determinations, one will surely reign victorious over the other, and I will come to my ultimate conclusion.

Some say I spawned from Nothing. They see my entry to this world at its time of crisis, and they relate me to an act of chance. They are so absorbed in their own life and story that they see my actions as something sporadic, a final confrontation which came from nowhere, as though I had been willed into existence by a writer's climactic desperations. But that is not the case. I am death, the bringer of Nothing. I have existed since the beginning of time, and now, I will observe its end.

I invite you to join me.


	2. Chapter 1: Fira and Family Reunions

Alright, so I got a...uh...confused review. Like I've said, this is really just the result of me and my friend having fun. Though we do know roughly where this is going, that's just because we've worked ahead. This isn't a streamlined plot. We just came up with a way to combine the games into a single timeline, picked some characters that fit with that scenario, and hurled them somewhere that would be difficult to escape and / or immediately murder each other. This doesn't exist for an epic plot. It exists for character interaction, and that's what it's mostly going to be. It's also going to be more focused in scene, dialogue, and action than something like Awakening. I'm just having fun with it and thought I'd share.

But anyway...Here's my first real chapter. It's my favorite of the ones I have so far and the next one should be up in a few days. Thanks!

* * *

_**Time Immemorial:**_

**Chapter One: Fira and Family Reunions**

* * *

That night, he fell asleep with the queen in his arms. Earlier in the evening, she'd declared a holiday from all the stiff, over-stuffed rituals of the royal and said they would have their time together. She'd notice how he'd sulk when she'd busy over the writs and certificates which piled up far too fast, how he'd seize up during diplomatic meetings, and how he'd escape the castle every chance he could get to run with the old crowds and try not be identified as the privileged noble he'd become. She'd dressed in her old traveling clothes, the ones that hugged her curves and made him smile, and suggested that they slip away from the royal guard at the next change of station. He stole two of the royal chocobos and they rode them north of Alexandria for a picnic she'd secretly acquired from the head chef itself. They returned to the wrath of an overzealous captain who had apparently searched not only the castle and the grounds, but all the surrounding lands for them himself. He hurled some particularly interesting accusations at the queen's chosen hand, but at this, she placed her hands on her hips, ordered him away, and when he did nothing more than stand there gaping, slammed the door in his face. She turned on her love then, and he grinned. After a few…illicit activities, he found himself curled around the queen with his arms around her shoulders and his tail wrapped around her ankle.

He woke up halfway across the world with one old friend and two of the worst company he could have imagined.

"Zidane! Wake up, Zidane!"

Someone shook his shoulder and he muttered something indistinctly insulting. His tail lashed against the ground and swept across someone's shoe.

"Please, Zidane!"

He frowned. There was a note of urgency in that whisper that he couldn't ignore, and it sounded so familiar... He opened his eyes.

To find blackness. Nothing but an empty, black space like he'd jumped into the lower decks of an airship without a candle. He would've thought he'd gone blind if the black wasn't interrupted by two little spheres of glowing yellow. Eyes. He knew those eyes…

"Vivi…?"

He sat up and Vivi's eyes shone with relief. Zidane stared at him and wondered if he was dreaming again. Behind him, the walls were made of stone, old and thick like the castle of Alexandria but without its style. The air was far too heavy with silence, and the lack of decoration set him on edge. He looked down at himself to discover that he was, thankfully, dressed, though how he'd gotten into his old Tantalus clothes he couldn't say. Still, mysterious locations and outfits meant nothing compared to the greatest mystery here. "Vivi, what're you-?" he started, but the moment he spoke, the black mage's eyes went wide and he quickly shook his head.

"Shhhh!"

"Why are you-?"

But one glance over the black mage's shoulder told him exactly why Vivi was whispering. A flash of purple and white. A long trail of silver hair. Zidane froze and then slowly gathered himself to his feet, as though afraid the sleeping mage would see him if he moved too quickly. "Oh no…" he muttered, and then saw something beyond his "brother." Something distinctly human in shape, but colored black with a glowing red core…

"Oh _no…!"_

Horror. All he knew in that one second was horror at what he saw before him. Maybe if he'd confronted either of them separately things might have been different. Garland had created him to destroy the world, lost him, tried to suck out his soul, and then died screaming off a cliff, but Zidane thought he might at least start reasonable. And Kuja…Well, he didn't know how he felt about Kuja. The man had tried to kill him twice, twisted the world into war, tormented his friends, destroyed a planet, nearly wiped out all existence…and then had saved their lives and died lamenting all of it in his arms. Zidane just didn't know how to react to that. If things had been different, he probably would have stayed and at least seen where things stood between them.

But as it was, Zidane could only watch in horror as the mage's silver-blue eyes fluttered open and Kuja looked to him with a frown. "Zidane…?" he asked, confused. Zidane knew he should have run, but found himself rooted in place, staring. Kuja touched his forehead distastefully and slowly lifted himself up on a palm. He didn't look the same as he had in the Iifa. There wasn't any blood. No wounds. Nothing. He looked like he'd just stepped from the back of his silver dragon and like he'd spent hours in front of a mirror. The magenta-colored armor around his shoulders was still intact, his loose, white sleeves hadn't been ripped by vines, and his strapped…skirt…_thing_ thankfully hadn't taken any damage either. The only sign of stress came from the slight dishevelment of his hair which had ruffled up in the back from where he'd laid on stone. Someone had even applied his make-up. Zidane felt a little sick.

"Where…?" Kuja started, but he made the mistake of glancing to the side and froze. For a split second, Zidane saw something strange cross the mage's face like fear before a very different expression twisted it. Kuja was on his feet in less time than it took the blink. "_YOU!"_

"Time to go!" Zidane didn't waste time seeing what would happen next. He grabbed Vivi's hand, dragged him out the archway, and ran down the hallway faster than he could remember in his life. He didn't have time to listen to the confused and cautious address from their mutual creator or see the quick sweep of Kuja's hand that he knew directed his magic. He didn't have time to identify the almost incomprehensible screech of a spell that would mark the beginning of disaster. Zidane didn't want to leave Kuja alone, but no amount of confused pity could keep him within a mile of that man just then. That room was about to become the most dangerous twelve square feet in the entire world, and he wouldn't have stayed around for anything except maybe his beloved Dagger.

Heat seared behind them in an explosion of fiery light that erupted five feet down the hallway on either side and burned into the back of Zidane's neck. Vivi gave a little squeak of fright, but kept running as Zidane dragged him forward faster than his little legs could take him. There was another explosion (from which party, he couldn't tell) and then a shrill, punctuated scream that was clear to him even through six inches of solid stone wall.

"_WHY – WON'T – YOU – DIE?"_

They kept running long after Vivi had lost his breath and Zidane had put five hallways, two ladders, and four flights of stairs between them.

"I-isn't this….enough?" Vivi panted then, and Zidane glanced at the empty hallway and laddered drop behind them.

'_An entire planet wouldn't be enough,' _Zidane thought desperately, but when he looked at Vivi's round and tired eyes, he found that he couldn't say no to them. He slowed to a stop and Vivi leaned over, breathing hard. Zidane watched him, glancing back every now and then to make sure they were still alone. The explosions had stopped on the third floor up, but whether that was because of distance or because either or both parties had died again, he couldn't say.

"Are you alright?" Zidane asked, and Vivi nodded.

"Y-Yeah," he answered, "I just…don't like…running."

Zidane nodded and kneeled down so he could look at him better. It was him, alright, right down to the tiny stitches on his over-large hat. The hat they'd taken off and placed on his grave in the Black Mage Village. Zidane had been there, recovering and waiting for an airship back to Alexandria, when Vivi had died. The black mages had come running and said he'd collapsed, but there was nothing anyone could do. Vivi had gone all at once, painlessly. Just…well, _stopped_. After everything that had happened, Zidane didn't know if he could take that. Mikoto helped him with the burial and the younger mages (Vivi had taken to calling himself their father) picked flowers and helped to make it the most beautiful grave they could manage. Then they found the letter. God, if they hadn't found the _letter…_

This all felt real – there was no denying that – but Zidane wondered again if it was all just a dream. That would definitely explain…well,_ everything._

Then he decided that it didn't matter. Dream or not, there was no way that even a subconscious part of him would ever be dismissive of Vivi.

He put a hand on his shoulder. "I know," he said, and then hesitated. The subject of death had always been a sore one, even before they'd experienced it so personally, and Zidane didn't know if he should mention it. Instead, he stood up, glanced around their surroundings, and frowned at a tall, arching window which merged at the top with its upside down reflection. The hallway was full of them.

"Hey, Vivi?" he asked, "Is it just me, or does this place feel…familiar?"

Vivi blinked and then looked around slowly, moving his whole head to see it all. "Um…Yeah, I guess…"

Zidane took a few steps away and tilted his head at the windows. "I mean, all the ladders, the statues in the walls, all the upside-down stuff…And my daggers." He reached down and pulled a dagger from its sheathe. It had been a while since he'd worn them, but they felt natural in his hand and the weight on his belt was no small comfort. He slashed it through the air, testing it. "My daggers feel wrong. Kinda light, you know? And…" he slid the blade across his gloved thumb. "Yeah, dull." He spun the hilt between his fingers and then slid it back into its sheathe. "I think I know where we are…" he started, but a flicker on the edge of his vision cut him off. He looked up just in time for…

"_Zidane!"_

Zidane took a few steps back. "Ah crap…"

Somewhere, some better logic in the back of his mind knew that Kuja could have set them both on fire already if he'd wanted to, but seeing that mage come storming towards them with that expression on his face and the mania in his eyes that tended to destroy _planets_…Well, Zidane's instincts got the better of him. He grabbed Vivi, turned tail, and fled.

"Oh – for all the eidolons! Will. You. Stop. Being. Such. A. _Moron?_" Each word came with a quick flick of his wrist and a jolt of magic sent flying from his hand. Zidane had to duck to avoid getting his eyebrows burned off. He dashed into the next hallway, scrambled around the turn, and started dashing down another. Kuja never so much as quickened his pace to a light jog. Such exercise was beneath him, and besides, he didn't need to.

"_Fira!"_

"Ah!" Heat burst in Zidane's face and he backpedalled to avoid the wall of fire that had blocked the hallway, wall to wall and floor to ceiling. Poor Vivi could only cling to his hand for dear life as he swung him back away from the flames and nearly threw him in a heap on the floor. Metallic footsteps clicked ever closer behind them. Zidane helped the disheveled black mage back to his feet and then looked determinedly at the fire wall. "Vivi, use Blizzara!" he tried, but it was already too late. Before Vivi could so much as raise his staff, the footsteps stopped, and their conversation was cut short by the short hiss of a word.

"_Zidane!"_

Zidane slowly turned around and found the mage looming over him, using every last inch of height to his advantage. Zidane shrunk away under the cold hate in the older Genome's eyes and grasped blindly for his dagger. "Ah…Hey, Kuja. Been a long time…"

Kuja's eyes narrowed. Somehow, despite what Zidane expected had become a death match in their previous room, Kuja's clothes had remained almost entirely unscathed. But then, they were probably spelled. This was a man who could come out of the wrong end of Bahamut's Mega-Flare looking like he was ready for some kind of bizarre, semi-pornographic modeling shoot. The cloth of his skirt swayed unnaturally, and Zidane knew that somewhere behind that veil, his tail was _lashing._

"Yes," Kuja answered coolly. "_It has."_

Zidane didn't know what to say to that. He thought he might have found the words, but he opened his mouth, took a breath and discovered that, no, he had nothing. Beside him, Vivi tensed, and Zidane could feel him glowering up at the much taller man. He'd forgotten how much the little mage hated Kuja. How much _everyone_ hated Kuja, actually. Not that he blamed any of them for it…

Kuja let them stew in the silence and then pursed his lips. "What," he asked, "Did you do?"

"Uh…Wait, what?"

"Are you deaf as well as stupid? What. Did. You. _Do?_" When Zidane just stared up at him blankly, Kuja scowled. "Don't act dumb with me! Or are you really as ignorant as I've always believed?" He took a step to the side and swept his hand in front of him in a long, theatrical wave. "This is all a bit too connected, wouldn't you say? To one person. _You._" A bitter smirk colored his lips, and Zidane would have edged away if it hadn't meant catching on fire. "And besides, who else could have done it?" Kuja continued, "In case you had forgotten, I _died._ Garland plummeted off of a cliff which I then destroyed, and your puppet here…" he gestured to Vivi almost dismissively, "Is, at the very least, living on borrowed time."

"_I'm not a puppet!"_ Vivi's voice cracked a little at the end, overwhelmed by offense and hatred. Zidane jumped into an offensive pose and grabbed at his dagger, tail lashing out from side to side.

"Don't talk about him like that!" he growled angrily, and when Kuja didn't respond, not even with a dismissive shrug, he added, "And I didn't do anything!"

Kuja smirked again. His arms folded over his chest so his hands were almost lost in the folds of his sleeves. He walked to the side, idly stepping around Vivi as though the black mage were something disgusting not worthy of sharing the same two foot radius, and considered the statue of a woman embedded in the wall. "Perhaps you are unaware of what you've done," he said, "You have a habit for playing with higher forces of the universe which you could not possibly understand."

"Wait, _I_ have a habit-?"

The mage cut him off with a look that very clearly questioned his intelligence. "As we have already established, I was dead, and therefore innocent of all offense."

"Oh, yeah. _Real innocent._"

Kuja glared at his younger counterpart, his fingers tapping impatiently along his forearms. "_Must_ you be so infuriating?"

Zidane grinned back with the devilish grin that gave Tantalus chills. "Only when it's fun," he answered, and Kuja gave a low, exasperated groan.

"This is going nowhere," he lamented before casting a sidelong look through the fire and looking almost longingly past it. "Well, if _you_ don't know why I am suddenly breathing again then I think I will discover the truth for myself."

"Wait…" Zidane didn't know what he'd been expecting, but that wasn't it. "You're just gonna – what? – _leave?" _

Kuja gave him a long look and then let his eyes settle on Vivi. "Well, I don't particularly admire the _company,_" he answered, and Zidane bristled a little.

'_Well the company doesn't particularly admire you,' _he thought. He didn't need to look at Vivi to know the hatred there. The poor little black mage had been through enough.

Kuja turned before Zidane could think of anything else to say, and extinguished the fire with the mutter of a spell and a backwards wave of his hand. He began to leave, and then paused, sending one last glance in the younger Genome's direction. "Oh," he added on, as though as an afterthought, "And try not to nearly die in anyone's traps, Zidane. You have a habit for that too."

"Only when they're set by _you,_" Zidane grumbled, and though he couldn't see his face, he bet that Kuja was smirking again. The mage left without another backwards glance and disappeared down the opposite hallway. Vivi relaxed a little once he'd gone and took a few steps forward, cautious.

"Why'd he leave?" he asked, though from the tone of his voice, Zidane knew it was by no means a complaint. Just something unusual, but then, hadn't Kuja always been like that? Pop in, get what he wanted, play with you a little, and get out. He wasn't exactly the type for grand battles or declarations of friendship. Zidane could have laughed at that thought. Yeah, the day Kuja declared the power of love and friendship was the day they learned Quina's gender. It wasn't happening.

"This is Ipsen's Castle," he explained slowly, "He probably knows where he's going."

He looked away from the place where they'd come and took a few steps towards the archway that he hadn't been able to see through the flames. Instead of another hallway, the floor dropped out beneath it as though it gave way to nothing, and across from that was another archway with no floor connected – only a ladder at its side. Zidane took a few steps forward and glanced to the side. Windows, a dozen of them, all upside down and spanning too far up for him to see.

"Actually, I think I do too." Zidane glanced at Vivi and the black mage gave him a slow blink.

"Come on. It's a long way home."


	3. Chapter 2: The SeeDs of Confusion

Alright, not that this was in high demand, but here's the second of my six complete chapters. If, by the end of all of this, I'm still not getting any good reviews or results, then I'll stop there, so if you want to see more tell me or read everything and show me through my traffic. Also, I'd like to reiterate that this isn't meant to be taken all that seriously. We just wanted to shove a whole bunch of characters in an area that would be hard to get out of and let the plot go from there. So it's going to be a lot of establishing scenes for a while. Um...With that said...

* * *

_**Time Immemorial**_

**Chapter Two: The SeeDs of Confusion**

* * *

_Where am I?_

He opened his eyes. He saw the ceiling and it was made of stone. He was lying on his back. More stone. In thick, fitted slabs. Where was there stone like that…?

_Why am I here? _

He slowly sat up and brushed the long swathe of deep brown hair from his eyes. The room was an unremarkable size (maybe twelve square feet) and completely empty of furniture, decoration, or apparent purpose. The ceiling extended high into wooden rafters where he could see windows…upside down. An open archway stood to the right, and he could see a hallway beyond it. He scanned the ground for the motionless human forms that had not immediately drawn his attention. A crumpled figure in a trench coat. The back of a blue half dress covered in dark brown hair – Rinoa. He rose to his feet and started towards her, but another color – red – caught his eye, and caused him such an instinctual sense of danger that he immediately reached for the hilt of his gunblade and spun around to face it.

She, alone of all of them, was awake. _Her_. He whipped the gunblade from its sheathe and held it steady on her chest. She looked to him, surprised, and then her yellow eyes narrowed. She rose to her feet, and her red dress fell out behind her and curved outwards and down, exposing her chest and stomach. Her silver hair spanned her half-exposed breasts and curved upwards in three foot horns. His finger tensed on the trigger.

"What did you do?" he demanded, his tone deadly. Ultimecia's lip drew back in a faint sneer.

"So even death will not rid me of these Kursed SeeDs?" she asked with a look of greatest disgust. He readjusted his aim.

"_Answer me!_"

She lifted her head a little so her eyes could angle down at him. "Believe me, boy, if I had enacted my revenge it would not bring me to this place." She had nothing more to say. He fired.

She blocked the bullet with a wave of her hand, but he was already mid-swing and leaping for her throat. She looked at him. In the brief half-second time before his sword collided, her lips came together and pursed in a smirk. He followed through, expecting to slice through flesh, but it only brought him swinging around with his own momentum. She was gone, disappeared in that moment between life and death. He cursed and kept his gunblade at the ready, circling around himself to minimize his blind-spots. He refused to have his back turned for even a moment when she could be readying for another attack. But then, a direct attack was unlikely. She had always worked through people to get her way. Just like how she'd brought Seifer under her heel with illusions of grandeur and how she'd possessed the sorceress…

He slowed to a stop. His eyes widened.

"Rinoa!"

He ran to her then and kneeled by her side, placing his gunblade down so it wouldn't cut her by mistake. He took her shoulders, rolled her over onto her back, and gathered her up in his arms. "Hey…" she protested as she felt herself move. He stared at her, waiting and she opened her dark eyes. She blinked once, twice, and then came to a slow smile. "Squall…" she said, and he was so relieved that he brought her up to his chest and held her there, his gloved fingers running through her hair. He felt her arms come up around his back and she pressed her head against his shoulder. "What's going on?" she asked, as though it was the most normal thing in the world.

"I don't know," he admitted, and then, "I thought you were in danger…"

"Why would I be in danger?" she asked, and then looked up. He felt her still a little as she let out a low "wow" and then removed herself from his arms. She stood up and took a few steps around him, staring up at the rafters and the solid stone walls. "Where are we?" she asked, more curious than concerned. Squall shook his head.

"I don't know…" he admitted again, but was interrupted by a low groan before he could decide if he wanted to say more. They both looked in the direction of the long-forgotten trench coat, and Squall felt himself stifle his own groan. His hopes for being trapped here with Irvine were dashed as the other man slowly sat up and rubbed his fingers at his forehead and through his short, blonde hair. Seifer.

"What's goin' on?" he asked hazily. Squall grabbed his gunblade, rose to his feet, and placed himself about a step in front of Rinoa. He held his sword tensely at his side with both hands, not offensively, but ready to rise in a split second if it needed to.

"…."

Rinoa glanced between them, and he could feel her hand close down on the hem of his jacket. He'd never asked what kind of relationship she'd once had with Seifer, but whatever it had been had long since shattered. He remembered how much she'd believed in Seifer, even when no one else would, and he remembered seeing her helpless and absorbed by that monstrous Sorceress Adel. It was enough to tighten his fingers around the hilt of his blade and to make him wish he could pull the trigger.

Seifer ruffled at his gelled hair and slid his gloved hand over his eyes. When he noticed them, that hand froze, and he could only stare, dumb-founded, at the two. "What're you guys doing here?" he asked, and Squall glared back.

"I could ask you the same question."

Seifer shook his head, grabbed his own gunblade (Hyperion) and stood. He tilted the dull end over his shoulder, stood in that cocky way of his, and took in their surroundings. "What a medieval dump…" he commented before apparently getting bored and raising his arms in a kind of shrug. "Well, looks like we're stuck together." Squall glowered at him, but couldn't deny that. Seifer strode past them as though he hadn't noticed their unease and bee-lined straight for the door. He stopped at its frame and whipped his gun-blade down to his side. He sent Squall a side-long grin and tilted his head. "Then let's make this exciting!" he said before running off, sword held slightly behind him, ready for attack. Squall touched the point where his nose met his forehead and tried to fight back the tension there. Just what he needed. An overzealous Seifer when the Sorceress was god knew where. But for now, it looked like he had no choice. They'd have to stay together, if only so Squall could keep a better eye on him.

He started to follow, but Rinoa looked up at him before he could even take a step. Squall looked back at her, and saw the worry and fear in that silent look, and he turned towards her and placed a hand on her shoulder and touched her cheek. Their eyes met and he felt his irritation loosen. "I'll protect you," he promised without looking away from her eyes. She nodded and reached up towards her necklace and the ring she'd threaded around it. Griever. She smiled, and he let go, readying his own gunblade with the determination to carry out his promise.

"Let's go," he told her, "Before he gets into any trouble." She nodded, and he ran into the hallway. Seifer was already waiting in the next room, standing with his blade over his shoulder and impatiently urging them on. Rinoa's boots clicked behind him and Squall listened to that sound so he knew he wouldn't lose it.

_What's going on?_

* * *

"And in the case of Seifer Almasy…"

Squall rose from his chair, moved his hand over his chest, and stood resolute. "Possessed by the Sorceress."

Headmaster Cid blinked back at him, the lines deepening in his worn face. The windows of the Headmaster's office lit the air in filtered sunlight and set their solemn meeting over an oceanic backdrop. Balamb Garden hovered in its constant orbit over the waves and Squall could feel the floor rock a little with its movement. There was silence except for the buzz of their engines and footsteps in the halls outside the door. No one moved.

"Squall…?"

He nodded. "Over the course of the past year's events, I've observed multiple cases of the sorceress' possession and enchantments. I do not believe Seifer to have been responsible for his own actions."

The Headmaster's eyebrows furrowed and, disturbed, he looked between Squall and the files on his desk. "He seemed to have been acting independently…" he said, but his voice wavered with doubt. Squall never faltered.

"With all due respect, sir, we could not tell that Matron had been possessed until she had been defeated. I believe something similar to have happened with Seifer. She swayed him to her side far too easily and he remained far too loyal to her. Upon her defeat, he returned to sanity and showed remorse. Unless a clear motive for his actions is proven, I stand by my statement. I believe him to have been possessed."

Uncertainty coated the air, and not the smallest bit of shock.

"Motive…?" Cid asked without looking at him, and Squall nodded.

"I ask you to provide a clear motive for his actions. Had he succeeded, his efforts would have destroyed all time and life, including his own. To a rational mind, this lacks all sense."

The Headmaster nodded slowly, silently. He thought for a long time and then raised his eyes to the two still sitting, stunned, before his desk. "Is this true?" he asked, "Was Seifer possessed?"

Fuijin and Raijin exchanged glances. Their defection took place at the height of the Sorceress' powers, and because they had had everything to lose at that time, they had been cautiously accepted back into the Garden. For this meeting, they had been called to serve as witnesses – those who knew Seifer best. After a moment, they nodded.

"He's right, ya know? Seifer wasn't actin' right, ya know? He was probably only actin' all crazy 'cause of that Sorceress woman, ya know?"

Fuijin nodded sternly. "TRUTH," she confirmed, and Cid sighed softly.

"I'm still not convinced," he admitted, and then looked up at Squall. His blue eyes were shining. "But I trust you, Squall. You wouldn't let a guilty man go unpunished and you wouldn't put our Garden in danger. If you say he was under magical influence then…I'll have to believe you."

Squall looked back without blinking, thanked him, made the SeeD salute, and returned to his seat. The proceedings continued through more traitors and defections of Balamb, and the whole time, Squall could feel eyes on him, curious and amazed, as Seifer's posse tried to believe what had just happened. Squall, predictably, said nothing.

* * *

Even then, he hadn't known if what he'd been doing was right. He'd known that Seifer had been acting on his own accord and that he'd been led only by his own delusions of power and cocky breed of insanity, but still, Squall had stood up in front of the Headmaster and had lied. He'd said what needed to be said to the man who had raised him, trained him, and who now held him in the highest confidence. He had spent many lonely nights lamenting his actions with Rinoa, and she listened without judgment, but he told no one else. Only Quistis heard of the passing events and raised her skeptical eyebrow at him, knowing what he'd done without having to ask. Zell and Selphie embraced his lies whole-heartedly and made themselves believe it while Irvine didn't seem to care one way or the other. He hadn't really known Seifer, after all, and just shrugged it off in that casual way of his. "Well, whatever's happened, happened," he said, though Squall thought he saw the hint of a look that promised a safe confidant. No one directly criticized his actions. Maybe they, too, felt this strange pinch of unease at the thought of sending Seifer to his death.

There was something, and Squall didn't know what it was, that wouldn't let him kill Seifer.

But if there was ever anything to challenge that notion, it would be this. Rinoa knew the truth better than any of them. She'd seen Seifer's own, individual brand of insanity there in the Lunatic Pandora, and she'd known that her pleas had been useless on this madman. Seeing him now filled her with such obvious unease that it set Squall's teeth on edge. How could Seifer stand there so triumphantly, as though nothing had happened and they hadn't seen him spiral to his own destruction?

_Who are you now, Seifer? What are you playing at?_

Seifer let out a low whistle and leaned over the edge of what looked like a cliff. The hallway had continued and then…stopped. The ground gave way to a twenty-foot drop and above that, at least another fifty of open space. Other archways leading to other hallways dotted the walls at random intervals, and next to all of them were…ladders. The sun pierced brighter here, and Squall squinted through the many windows but could see nothing of the outside. The arches of the windows, he noticed, were upside down.

_Where are we…?_

"It's a goddamn maze in here," Seifer observed.

"…"

"Hey, Squall!" He cast a side-long grin in his direction and pointed across the opposite wall with the tip of his gunblade. "Looks like we can get across there. Want to try it out?"

But Seifer didn't reach for the ladder. Instead, he simply hopped off the edge and disappeared past their sight. Rinoa let out a small scream of alarm and reached out as though to grab him, but he was already gone, and all she could do was scramble to look over the edge. Squall took a step forward and peered over too.

Seifer stood about ten feet below them where he'd landed on a strip of floor, like a bridge, that stretched from one ladder to another. He looked up at them, waved his gunblade over his head in acknowledgement, and ran on ahead again. Squall scowled.

_Show-off._

Rinoa got back to her feet, smiled at him a little shakily, and swung her arms out in front of her so they cracked at the knuckle. "Well," she said, rocking on her heels, "Guess we'd better get going." Though she sounded cheerful, there was a slight tremor to her voice that betrayed her hidden anxieties. Squall nodded as though he hadn't heard them, but still sent her a small, quiet smile before pulling himself onto the side-long ladder. He saw her return it and knew she would be okay. He clicked down the rungs as Seifer climbed up the opposite wall, and by the time they'd reached the bottom, he'd already disappeared.

They were at the middle of the next ladder when they heard it. The dual-roar, a clatter of metal on stone and then…

"Au-Augh!"

"Damn it!" Squall cursed under his breath and started up the ladder as fast as he could manage without slipping. Behind him, he heard Rinoa struggling to keep the pace, but he didn't stop to wait for her. The moment he reached the top, he flung himself over the edge, grabbed his gunblade in both hands, and charged towards the source of that sound. If Seifer had gotten himself killed…

But he hadn't. For now at least, Squall found him alive, knocked over on his back. Seifer's gunblade was loose in his hand as he stared up at the beast. His face had gone pale, and he looked too shocked and horrified to move. "Squall!" he called, "My…My GFs!"

Squall didn't bother to ask what he meant. He didn't have time. The monster was huge – a mass of brown fur, thick claws, and a split tail that groped at the air like tentacles. It loomed over Seifer, its mouths – two, vicious things right on top of the other in rows of slobbering teeth – more than enough to rip him apart. Squall regripped the hilt of his sword, brought it under his control, and charged. As he ran, he reached for the power of the Guardian Forces he had brought under his allegiance: Shiva, Diablos, Pandemona, Bahamut. The rest he had left to aid his friends, but this was all he needed. He called to the speed of Pandemona, the strength of Shiva, and the accuracy of Diablos for an attack faster than sight, more deadly than bullets, and unwaveringly effective.

His speed didn't change. He swung, missed, and was quickly swatted to the side with the sweep of a giant paw.

_What…?_

His body whistled through the air and smashed against the opposite wall. Bones against stone. Forces stopped at abrupt impact. The breath had been knocked out of him and he slumped back, unable to recover. His defense…But where had it gone?

"Squall!"

That scream brought his head up, and there he saw Rinoa, staring at him in horror. He looked to her and wanted to tell her to move on, to leave him here and save herself, but he knew she wouldn't listen. The monster turned at the sudden distraction of her voice and rounded to face her. Rinoa stared up at it helplessly (if Seifer and Squall had failed, what chance did she stand?) but after a moment, she gathered her resolve and brought her hands into fists.

"Fira!" she tried, but it did no good. Without GFs, she could store no magic. Squall winced and grabbed in the rough direction of his gunblade. He couldn't let them die…

The monster bore over her, slobbering and growling, and she stumbled back with a cry of alarm. Behind the monster's back, Seifer scrambled to his feet and watched the events unfold. He looked uncertain, reluctant. Unsure of whether to fight or flee. Squall gathered himself on his feet, slumped over and holding his heavily bruised rib cage, but standing. He took as deep a breath as he could manage and gathered himself. If he could only…

"F-Fira!" Rinoa backpedaled over her own feet and nearly tripped backwards. Her back fell against the wall, and she flattened against it, her eyes wide. Squall readied his gunblade and charged again. The beast raised its paw and opened its jaws.

_I'm sorry that I couldn't protect you, Rinoa._

He swung. For this, he didn't need to be fast or precise. His reduced strength could barely rival that of a civilian when using such a heavy sword, but the blade was sharp (Unnaturally so, he noted) and slid deep into the creature's flesh. It gave a howl of pain, and he found his sword hilt-deep in bloody tissue. He tried to pull it out, but without Shiva on his side, he found it wouldn't budge. His eyes widened as the beast lashed out and reached at him again. Teeth, three to four inches long. One mouth snapping on top of the other. It lunged at him, and though he tried to pull himself out of the way, he wasn't fast enough. Those teeth closed around his left arm. Blood. Bone. Squall shouted in pain as he felt his arm devoured by that creature. Blackness shaded his eyes in bright dots of contrasting color. Its paw pressed into his stomach and held him down, ready to rip. To tear…

"_Firaga!"_

An eruption of heat in unrestrained, explosive flames. The heat washed over him and it burned, but it was nothing compared to the pain in his arm. The creature screamed and dropped him and he fell to the ground as it lumbered off, blind and burning. More instinctively than consciously, Squall pushed himself back out of the line of fire and gripped at his wounds. Orange light burst from the creature's body, and its skin sizzled and charred from the heat. Above it all, he could see Rinoa, hovering on white wings and glowering down at the destruction below her. An avenging angel. She raised her hand again.

"_Thundaga!"_

A bolt of lightning like the hand of gods crashed from the ceiling and into the creature's body. It went tense, writhed, and struggled for a moment against that blinding white light. Squall had to look away. When he returned his eyes, the monster had gone limp, the smell of burning fur bitter and heavy in the air. She remained above it, eyes bright with unfathomable power. A sorceress' power. No GF could accomplish _that._

Her focus shifted, and their eyes met. He stared at her, and after a moment, her expression faltered, softened, and changed. She dove back to the ground and ran to him so quickly that her boots almost stumbled over themselves. "Squall!" she called again. She threw herself beside him and took his arm in her hands. "Oh god…"

"I'm alright…" he wanted to say, but it was a lie, and they both knew it. Her eyes were full of tears.

"No…" she said, "Let me…Let me help. C-Cura!" The power was fading from her eyes, but it was enough for that. Warm relief flooded his flesh, and he closed his eyes as the pain dissipated and his wounds closed. Bone came to bone. Tendon to tendon. The skin still burned, perhaps even still bled, but it was enough. He looked at her and found that her hands were still shaking.

"Thank you," he said, and she nodded, tears falling down her cheeks and streaming down her nose and onto her neck.

"Just rest," she told him, and he took a deep breath and laid back against the stone. Past all the destruction and the fire and the beast's still burning flesh, Seifer stood by the archway where he'd fallen. He crossed his arms and scowled.

"So she's a little strong…" he muttered.

Squall ignored him.


	4. Chapter 3: The Traitors of Shinra

Up to this point, the chapters have been pretty much completely my own, but for this one, I have to thank my friend for it. She wrote the first draft and I redrafted it to fit the rest of my style without really changing much of the dialogue or action taken. This is because she is FAR more familiar with the FF7 universe than me...Which is weird because it's my second favorite game in the series, but without Crisis Core and understanding much of all the stuff about the planet and the lifestream and mako and everything, I just can't write it as well. Anyway, thanks to...my friend who shall remain nameless and here's the next section!

* * *

_**Time Immemorial**_

**Chapter Three: The Traitors of Shinra**

"Cloud?"

Who was calling him? The voice was familiar, but he couldn't place it. He tried to open his eyes, but the light was painful and he quickly closed them again. It was a struggle just to swim towards consciousness.

"I really need you with me, buddy!" There was urgency in that voice and he forced open his eyes. Rafters stretched three stories above him enclosed by gray slate wall. Something solid and dark touched his arm.

Stretching out a cautious hand, his fingers scraped across something smooth and cold, but it was familiar to his touch. The buster sword? He narrowed his eyes to be sure he was seeing correctly. He had left it on the cliff where Zack had died.

"Hey, don't take my weapon. I think your sword's on the other side of you," a teasing voice reprimanded him, though the joke was tense. This time Cloud could place that voice.

His blue eyes shot open fully, and he was on his feet in almost the same movement. "Zack?" He croaked out, scanning the dark-haired man who had crouched next to him. His friend wore the dark clothes and plated armor that he had worn before his death, but it was as clean as if he had never worn it before. There was no blood and dirt from the battle. This was a Zack that appeared unscathed.

"Am I dead?" He asked uncertainly, though he knew otherwise. This definitely wasn't the lifestream, but it also didn't feel like any of the times he'd seen Zack or Aerith in Midgar. Zack looked too solid. Too real. Cloud experimentally touched one of Zack's shoulder pads, and yanked his hand back as if the metal had burned him. They were perfectly solid.

"What-?"

"That's what I'd like to know, spiky." Zack didn't sound surprised, only tense as he watched a point over his shoulder. Cloud turned as well to find two others behind him, staring each other down with swords in hand. They didn't offer so much as a glance in his direction, but he recognized one of them immediately and it caught his breath in his throat. He didn't know why he should be so surprised. This had already happened twice before…

Cloud yanked his fusion sword off the ground and next to him, Zack grasped the hilt of the buster sword. He had no intention of fighting the two – not now when he couldn't be sure that they wouldn't join forces – but before he could so much as think about running, they both noticed their movement and turned to face them. The first, an auburn-haired man he barely recognized, showed only amusement as he spoke.

"Ah, Angeal's puppy and the infantryman with the pure S cells. Perhaps you have an idea of where we are?" The almost flowery speaking patterns and the man's red over-coat struck a familiar chord in the depths of Cloud's memory, and he recognized him though it had been years since he'd seen him last. Still, Cloud waited for Zack to confirm what he already suspected, and he wasn't disappointed.

"Genesis?" Zack sounded grimmer than usual. He gripped the buster sword tighter and moved forward as if to shield Cloud from the two men. "But…your degradation…"

Genesis smiled and spread his arms out as he approached them. "'Infinite in mystery is the gift of the goddess,'" he quoted softly. "We were brought here, and by what will?"

"Loveless _again?" _Zack asked with disgust, but Cloud's attention was focused beyond them and towards the second man. Seeing him was like a waking nightmare. The flowing silver hair, the black cloak with the silver clasps, the long curved sword, the cat-like green eyes that held nothing in them.

"Sephiroth," he muttered aloud, just to convince himself that what he was seeing was real. With that name, those lifeless green eyes turned towards him, a thin smirk turning up the corners of his mouth.

"Cloud…" he looked down the length of his masamune as if considering its point. Cloud wondered vaguely if Sephiroth was remembering how many times he had been stabbed with it. He certainly was.

"It's good to see you again," Sephiroth continued, his voice weighing darkly on Cloud's ears. "Though you know, I suppose I could almost commend you. To be sent to the lifestream three times by a former puppet of mine. It's nothing I could have expected."

"What are you doing here, Sephiroth?" Cloud asked, ignoring the mocking tone of his "praise." He gripped the hilt of his sword a little tighter. Sephiroth was unpredictable, and could strike faster than the average person could see.

"I could ask you the same question. Where is 'here,' Cloud?"

Cloud blinked and considered his surroundings without turning his eyes away. Stone pillars and staircases surrounded them, and stone floors clicked hard beneath his boots. Intricate tapestries decorated the walls, and despite the silence that loomed over everything, there was none of the dust and cobwebs that Cloud would have expected from an abandoned building. It made him uneasy.

"I don't know," he admitted quietly, and it was true. He _didn't _know where they were. He _didn't _know how any of this was possible. And he _didn't _know how any of them were alive.

Sephiroth eyed him for a long moment. "Then I'll seek someone who does," he said dismissively. His eyes fell from Cloud and towards the tall wooden door. Cloud readjusted his grip and shifted to block his path.

"No."

Sephiroth paused, and once again caught Cloud in his cat-like eyes. "No?" He echoed mockingly. "And you believe you can stop me from leaving? Your victories have made you overconfident."

"You're not leaving. I'm not giving you a fourth chance to destroy everything." He could feel Zack's eyes on his back, but he didn't dare take his eyes off Sephiroth. He only hoped that Zack could take care of Genesis _and _Sephiroth if he failed, but as it turned out, that wasn't necessary.

Genesis let out a short laugh, unfurling one black wing as he leapt upward and landed on one of the lofts far above their heads. Leaning over the edge of the railing, he considered all of them with a faint smile.

"'When the war of the beasts brings about the world's end, the goddess descends from the sky,'" he quoted almost smugly. "Sephiroth! Let us see if you truly are the perfect monster." Turning away, he left the room. Something dark flashed through Sephiroth's eyes, but it was gone as quickly as it had come.

"I could easily follow him," he said smoothly, as he dipped into a graceful fighting position that Zack and Cloud were quick to copy. "But very well. Let me give you the taste of the lifestream that you seem to so desire."

Without wasting any more time, Sephiroth struck. Cloud raised his sword and blocked it with a clink of metal against metal, but as he settled into the familiar rhythm of battle with Zack at his side, he quickly realized that something was wrong. His weapon felt the same as it always had, but his attacks were weak and barely seemed to touch Sephiroth. Maybe even more disconcerting, Sephiroth's usual strength felt diminished. Cloud would have thought that the ex-general was toying with them if it wasn't for a look of frustration that crossed his face before he suddenly leapt back a step and raised a hand to them in a way that made Cloud pause.

"Stop. I believe a change of location is in order before we finish this. Something is wrong here."

"What is this place?" Zack looked down at his buster sword with a frown. "It makes us weak."

"No." Sephiroth considered his masamune thoughtfully. "My strength feels no less than usual. It is not us, but our weapons…Intriguing."

Cloud had many words for whatever was going on, but intriguing wasn't one of them. Before he could say so, Sephiroth spread his one black wing, identical to Genesis'.

"I am wasting time here. If you are both clueless to our location, then I will find someone who isn't," he said dismissively before leaping into the air. Cloud dove forward to stop him, but Sephiroth was already three stories above them. Unlike Genesis, he didn't bother with any parting words and simply disappeared through the balcony door.

"Damn it," Cloud hissed, wondering if there was any way to go after him. He almost jumped when Zack placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Hey, calm down. Whatever put us here wanted us to wake up in the same room. We'll find him again."

"I guess…" Cloud cast Zack a long glance. "I'm glad you're here, Zack," he muttered, not quite meeting his gaze. "Even if it's selfish because I don't even know where here is."

Zack gave him a small grin, but it was a shadow of the one he remembered. "No. It's good to be alive. I just…need to know why."

Cloud nodded. He could definitely understand that.

"Then let's go find your answers."

Zack's grin became a little more genuine. "Now you're talking."

Cloud smiled back and turned to head into the hallway, keeping his fusion sword ready at his side. Even if it seemed useless here, the familiar weight was almost as comforting to him as the man walking beside him.

* * *

Unfortunately, after five hallways and two staircases, Cloud wasn't feeling too comforted by anyone.

"Is there even an exit to this place?" He murmured to Zack who lifted his hands in an easy shrug.

"Has to be," he said, "We got in here somehow, right?" Cloud wasn't too sure about that, but he nodded uneasily. Whatever this place was, its design made no sense that he could see. Hallways cut off in the middle and plunged into three story dives. None of the rooms seemed to have any purpose and other than the statues and engravings carved into the walls, there seemed to be no furniture. Several of the rooms they passed had been flipped upside down with chandeliers and rafters beneath them and smooth floor on the ceiling. It was like walking through some kind of twisted, medieval funhouse…

They weren't alone either. They kept hearing sound above, below, or through the adjacent walls, and though they'd seen their share of monsters since entering this place (a troubling development when their swords were dull and materia missing) these noises sometimes came with voices. A pained yell they hadn't been able to find followed by a dull roar. Some kind of manic screaming followed by a series of explosions they'd tried to avoid. For better or for worse, it looked like they weren't the only ones in this maze, though if these voices belonged to fellow victims or the puppet-masters behind this, he couldn't say. More than anything, he wanted answers and he knew that luck wouldn't keep him blocked away from these noises forever.

And after five hallways and two staircases, their luck finally gave way.

A yell pierced through the ceiling, and Cloud froze as he heard it. It sounded distressed, distinctly feminine, and directly overhead. Looking ahead, Cloud saw another staircase, one leading up and the other delving down. He glanced at Zack and saw the serious edge to his eyes above the usual grin.

"Maybe we should try up instead of down," he suggested, "Sounds like the action's upstairs."

Cloud nodded in agreement. "Up it is," he said softly, and they hurried into a jog that brought them to the end of the hall and up the winding stairs. He kept his hand on the hilt of his fusion sword and saw Zack do the same on the buster sword strapped to his back. A dull thud sounded through the walls, and Cloud pinpointed it to his right, hopefully in a hall that curled in on itself, and then a voice.

"Blizzara!" It was a shrill screech of a spell followed by a woman's voice, rising in protest. Cloud hesitated and looked to Zack again.

"Not good," Zack muttered, getting a stronger grip on his buster sword. "Should I blast through the wall? She sounds like she's in trouble."

"Can you even do that?" Cloud asked doubtfully. "We're so weak here."

Before Zack could answer, a door ahead of them burst open. Cloud jumped and whipped his sword from its sheathe, but the sight of the intruder made him falter. It was a man, or at least he assumed it was a man. He wore such an elaborate costume and so much make-up that it was nearly impossible to tell for certain. Cloud had been expecting anything from soldiers to civilians to scientists to Sephiroth, but he hadn't been expecting this. This man looked like he belonged in a theater, or a circus more accurately. He wore about seven different fabrics patched together in ruffles, frills, and tights of all the primary colors. The skin of his hands and face had been painted white and red lined his eyes in bright starbursts of color. The man looked over his shoulder and laughed, a shrill, booming cackle that bounced through the air and off the walls like something alive. A bright comprehension lit his eyes when he turned and saw them. His face twisted in a grin, but he didn't stop moving. He just ran past, agile as a dancer, and Cloud didn't even think to stop him.

"_What _the-?"

"Sorry, spiky!" the man grinned as he slid past them, "No time to play!" Zack snapped out of it before Cloud could and lunged to try and grab him, but the man was too fast and they'd wasted too much time. The man dashed down the way they'd come, and disappeared down the winding stairs with a quick flash of his yellow and green cape. Cloud tried yelling after him, but it did no good, and they were left standing there, blinking quietly in the middle of the now abandoned hallway.

"Cloud?" Zack asked after a moment of silence, "Was that…a _clown?" _

"Yeah…" Cloud answered slowly, "I…think it was." He reached up and touched his forehead, rubbing the frustration from it. For not the first time, he wondered if he was dreaming.

Zack shook the confusion from his eyes and started forward. The clown had left the next doors open, and Zack peeked inside only to stop about a step in. "Woah," he said and waved Cloud over, "Come look at this."

For some reason, Cloud found that he didn't quite want to know what the clown had been doing on the other side of that door, but he frowned and followed Zack anyway. He felt his arms prickle as the temperature dropped at the doorway, and when he entered this next hall, he found it to be completely blocked with a wall of ice. Whoever that clown had been, he was powerful.

"Huh…" He considered it for a moment and then cautiously approached the frozen barrier. "Why would he-?"

"Sh…" Zack motioned towards the ice, and Cloud fell silent. Without their noise, he could pick up the muffled conversation of two voices – female. He frowned and glanced at Zack, concerned, but the voices suddenly amplified and he heard the words clearly enough to answer his own question.

"He's going to escape!" The woman sounded distressed – impatient. Cloud suddenly wished he'd done something in the last hallway other than gawk.

"That clown trapped them," he frowned. The voices behind the ice had subsided again, though he could still hear their muttering and a few select, panicked words. Words like "magic," "traitor," "sanity," and "power." Cloud touched the icy wall and tested its strength.

"I wish I had some fire materia on me," he lamented, "But I'd be afraid of hurting them if I did."

"We can't just leave them there though," Zack pointed out. "Let's break it down."

Cloud nodded a little hesitantly and looked over the wall of ice for any weak spots. Normally a wall like this wouldn't have posed a problem, but their swords were weak, and the magic was strong. They considered the wall for a moment when a shout on the other side told them that the women didn't exactly need their help.

"Fira!"

Zack's hand clamped on Cloud's shoulder and yanked him away a second before heat burst from the other side and erupted in an orange explosion of flames. They stumbled backwards and stared as the center of the ice was immediately vaporized and the fire licked at the surrounding walls. Cloud reached for his sword more out of habit than any thought of a true threat, and Zack nodded at him, pulling his own as well. They held their blades sideways, defensively, as the flames cleared and died with a puff of rising steam. A long, white boot stepped through the cleared circle, followed by a leg and a ducking mass of long, blonde hair. The woman straightened and they saw, of all things, a green leotard and a white cape sweeping at her ankles. The woman froze at the sight of them, and she pulled for a silver sword at her belt. Behind her, another woman crawled through the opening and scrambled to her feet behind the first. Another leotard, this time red, another cape, more boots. She looked between them uncertainly and then unsheathed her own blade, and the two pairs stood on opposite ends of their weapons.

Cloud stared at them. The first woman's eyes chilled and she readjusted the grip on her sword.

"Who are you?"


End file.
